Burning
by Sarah's Ghost
Summary: Rory Hawthorne never felt a pain worse than losing her, and he doesn't think he'll be able to heal.
1. Chapter 1

*.*.*.*.*  
Capitol of Panem  
7:42 pm  
Rory Hawthorne

I sat in the hovercraft, gripping the hand that belonged to the love of my life. I squeezed it tightly, making sure she couldn't get out of my grip, seeing as I had my arm wrapped around her shoulders quite tightly. Prim shuddered and sighed, again reminding me that it was pointless to be doing this; within the next half an hour they would give us the okay signal to go out. The militia: protect the medics. Medics: save the remaining children who survived the blast. I was a part of the militia, signing up to make sure Primrose got back safely. I was tall enough to pass for seventeen, and they didn't ID anyone, which was strange. Many of the young boys – including myself – were perfectly willing to fight against the Capitol, the fear they once had long gone. Ignoring Prim's obvious thoughts, I continued to give her hand a death grip, and eventually I gathered enough courage to look at her; I was terrified I would lose her tonight. I knew Gale was in charge of the bombs, so I knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure we were okay.  
But I still felt uneasy.  
Prim was staring back at me, and she smiled distantly, looking down at her lap. "What?" I asked her. "Oh, nothing. It's just that we were in this same position when... you know... you kissed me. When Katniss went into the Games. The Quarter Quell, I mean..." she drifted off. Oh, Katniss. She didn't know about us yet... "You mean, like this?" I asked, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. They were warm and welcoming, sweet like the honey they put on toast back in 13. She laughed into the kiss, and I pulled away, pressing my forehead to hers. She looked at me for a moment before closing her eyes. I stared at her face, all of her features for what seemed like forever. She was perfect, at least to me – I remember Vick talking about how he learned in school that when you really liked somebody, your brain ignored all of their flaws, making them seem perfect. "I love you, Primrose Everdeen," I whispered before I had processes the words in my head. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me. "Well, I do," I said, pulling away. She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me back, kissing me. I rested my hands on the small of her back, and pulled her into an embrace. We sat there for a while, thinking, before she pulled away and whispered "I love you too, Rory Hawthorne. You'll never know."  
I grinned at her – I had never told my girlfriend I loved her. I kept it to myself, only telling Gale how I felt about her, and even then it was vague.  
A voice came on over the loudspeaker, calling us by saying in a monotone voice, "District 13 volunteer army, please assemble at hovercraft exits." I pulled Prim to me, unable to let her go, the fear of losing her overwhelming me. I felt her put her head on my shoulder, and I pulled away. "Please be safe Primrose," I said. "I'll find you after, okay?" She nodded, saying "I love you, I love you, please don't get hurt, I love you I love you I love you Rory Hawthorne." I laughed at her, lifting her chin up to kiss her nose and say, "I love you more." She smiled weakly, and I stood up. I stood in formation with the others, and checked to see that my gun was loaded. Everything was good to go, and I glanced over to the medics, looking for Prim. She was going through her pack, a look of concentration already on her face.  
I remembered that from all of those years in District 12; when toddlers were sick and she was creating a remedy, when coal miners came in after having a hard time breathing, when Gale was whipped and she was healing him. I had grown familiar with that face, and I had it memorized; seeing as we grew up together, I practically had her entire being memorized.  
The doors opened, and she looked up. She mouthed something to me, and I gave her a thumbs up. We were supposed to station ourselves around the medics, making sure no civilians other than the children who were injured could get in or out.  
I ran out, forcing myself to forget about Prim. I was here on a mission, and Primrose was not it, I told myself repeatedly. I stopped where I was supposed to, and held back screaming Capitol citizens trying to reach their children. Cries of agony, the smell of burning flesh, blood making the obnoxious blue concrete purple made me want to vomit. Someone punched me in the stomach, and I keeled over momentarily. Pulling myself up, I aimed the gun at the person and shot three times – open fire, protocol. Coughing, I stood up straight and glanced behind me, sick at the thought of having just killed someone. Something seemed out of place. But having had explosive parachutes come in just minutes before, everything was out of place. The feeling I had on the hovercraft returned, as I searched for Prim. I found her, kneeling over a whimpering body, not too far away. I turned away letting her do her job when it hit me – some of those bombes hadn't exploded, they were still in one piece. I looked up, checking the skies and seeing the hovercrafts that released the bombs.  
And more were falling.  
I screamed at Prim, but her attention was elsewhere. I ignored whatever she was looking at and screamed her name again. She looked up, and began to say something, but she was cut off by a bomb going off. She looked away, frightened, and I called her name one more time, finally gaining her attention, and the attention of my regiment. She looked at me, and I motioned for her to come to me. Her eyes becoming big, she glanced at her patient and got up, running in my direction. I dropped my gun and shoved the Capitol people down, my only priority getting my girlfriend behind me before more bombs went off. "Get down!" I heard others shouting, but Prim was so close, and I could tell she was running as fast as she could. "Get down!" they kept shouting at me, but I couldn't; Prim had to be with me. She was so close, only about ten yards away. But thirty feet can be all the difference, and with the luck we had, Prim tripped and fell forward. She looked up, her nose now bloody, and looked back.  
For a moment, time stood still. She looked at me, holding my gaze, until she was swallowed in flames.

Capitol of Panem  
8:22 pm  
Rory Hawthorne

I remember running forward, towards her.  
I remember screaming, yet not comprehending screams at that moment.  
I remember holding her, the pavement still hot from the fire, her body, charred in places and bloody in others.  
She was still alive, but barely, and she was crying, screaming in pain.  
I wished to God that I could trade places with her, because the pain she was in might be more bearable than mine, but that thought wasn't fair to Prim. Her screams had weakened to a sob now, and she was in so much pain. I grabbed her hand and leaned over, pressing my head to her bloody chest. Why was it her? "Prim, stay with me. Please Prim. I love you, please don't leave me. I love you, I love you. Primrose, please!"  
She squeezed my hand, getting my attention. Her lips quivering, she whispered, "Tell my sister it's not her fault."  
She was dying. Oh my God, Primrose Everdeen, my girlfriend, the love of my life was dying, and she could still only think of Katniss. But still, that wasn't fair to Primrose.  
I cried, harder than I've ever cried. I sobbed into her shirt, balling one hand into her charred shirt, my other gripping hers as we had done on the hovercraft. Her chest was rising and falling, getting slower by the second, and I heard her heart becoming quiet.  
"I love you," she told me. "More than I've ever loved anyone."  
"More than Buttercup?" I asked.  
"Yeah," she barely sighed.  
"I love you more, Primrose."  
"Most."  
She was weaker now, her voice barely audible.  
"Prim?" I cried. Her chest slowly ceased to move, and I knew she was dead. I sat there for a moment, dropping my head on her chest; my hand holding her limp one. "Shit Prim, looks like you've gone and died on me, now." I whispered.  
After an infinity, I sat up. I looked at her, and to me, she was still perfect; just a messed up version of the girl I loved. I leaned down and kissed her face – forehead, nose, lips, cheek. I wiped the wetness off her face, tears clinging to my thumbs where I wiped them off her cheeks.  
I stood, staring at her.  
Finally, I pressed three fingers to my lips, held them towards her, and shakily made my way through the chaos onto the hovercraft with my squadron, knowing they would collect and identify bodies later.


	2. Chapter 2

District 13 was more dull than it had been before. Even with the smiling children and relieved faces floating around, it was bleak and bland and I wished everyone to be as miserable as I was. Nobody cared that the jewel of Panem had just died, had only just burned to death, in my arms, three days earlier. Nobody cared. Their families and loved ones were all safe and sound, sleeping under their respective ceilings and whispering sweet nothings into their ears. Eating and drinking and laughing and working, all alive and happy. The only faces that didn't show relief were mine and Johanna Mason's; but even her trademark scowl turned into a smile if a child spoke to her.

The only people who would speak to me were Posy and Vick, after they got back from exploring with our mother. They would tell me about their day in great detail as I lay in bed, staring at the wall and listening to them, hoping that something they said would distract me from Prim's death. They told stories of seeing turkeys and berries and a river that they could see fish in, dozens of them. They talked about how good all of that game might taste, and how curious the animals were and how easy it would be for someone to kill and clean and eat those animals; but they never once mentioned how Gale was the only one in our family - the only other one in both Districts 12 and 13 - who could hunt the animals they were talking about.

I knew they were keeping his name out of their mouths for me. We all knew that Gale had designed the bombs, that he had given the okay to drop them both the first and second time. His very design, his plan, had been what killed Primrose.

I didn't blame many deaths on people I loved. My entire life, I'd always thought that the Capitol was to blame for every mining accident, every reaped child, every starving citizen. Not even the few people driven mad by poverty and hunger who had murdered another person were to blame in my eyes - no, their insanity was caused by the Capitol alone.

But Gale was guilty of murder, and he alone was to blame.

Because of my brother, Panem had lost one of the very few beautiful things left in the world.

Because of Gale, one of the country's war heroes, her blood had stained the blue concrete, and had been washed off to make the streets look nice again.

Her body had become unrecognizable, her blond hair had been burned, her face wet with both tears and blood.

She had been taken and processed by stone faced embalmers who shipped her in a wooden box to District 12, where she had been buried in an unmarked grave alongside every other citizen from our district who died fighting. Clothes charred and hands mangled and she was so scared and hurting so much and she was dead.

Because of him.

Because of my brother's failure to keep his promise to Katniss in keeping Prim alive. He had lost his love and light, like I had, when he dropped those bombs on her. When he gave Beetee the okay to kill the medics and the children, Gale lost a brother. And Gale lost Katniss.

..

The day Gale got back from the Capitol, I made myself scarce.

I knew he had to feel guilty, that he had to be upset. Katniss was his best friend, and anyone with eyes could see that he was head over heels in love with her; and he had just killed her sister. I didn't doubt that he was regretful, I just didn't care.

So when he found me hiding in the weapons vault, it took every fiber of self control that I possessed to keep from shooting him with the nearest firearm.

He stood there for a while, watching me while I cleaned the spotless gun I had been holding; trying to act as thought I was busy when in reality, I just needed to keep my hands busy.

Cleaning the gun and focusing on small imperfections in its body, pretending that the barrel was the most interesting thing in the world. Anything to distract myself from Gale's presence.

Finally, almost mercifully, he walked over and picked up one of the guns I had already cleaned. He inspected it, turning the small contraption over in his hand. He looked up at me and smirked. "I taught you well, didn't I?" he whispered, his voice raspy. I noticed his eyes were red, his hands were shaking, and he held the gun delicately, like it might go off on its own at any second.

I nodded my head, glancing at the door to see if anyone might overhear us - it wasn't forbidden for us to be down here, but it certainly wasn't smiled upon. When I didn't answer him immediately, his smile faded and his grip on the gun tightened.

"The safety's off."

He looked up at me, not fully understanding what I had barely choked out. "What was that?"

"Your gun. You switched the safety off when you picked it up," I stated, this time more confident than before. He nodded.

"Nothing gets past you, little brother," he said, as he shook his head. It's silent for a while, and my entire being was telling me to kick his face in, to yell and scream and make him hate me as much as I hated him, but I couldn't.

I've always acted on impulse - my first fight, the first time I kissed Prim, even volunteering for the militia - but I couldn't hurt Gale. Even if I tried to hurt him, he could easily overpower me despite how much stronger I'd grown in the last few months.

He laughed, loudly, startling me out of a daydream I didn't know I was in. I frowned. "What's so funny?" I questioned.

He shook his head. "Nothing," he started. "I'm just thinking about you not being such a 'little brother' anymore. You've grown up, Rory."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, I guess that happens when your older brother burns up the girl you love," I stated coldly. Gale's smile faded. He turned away, putting the safety on the gun and setting it down on the shelf behind him. He leaned onto the shelf, placing his forehead on the metal pole that attached it to the ground. "I didn't know they let you out early," he began, slowly. "The plan was to drop two waves of explosives, and let the medics out after the second one," he paused, and turned to me. "I don't know if they misinterpreted my orders, or went with their own plan, but that was not supposed to happen. Prim and all the other medics were supposed to make it out unharmed. I wouldn't have risked having either of you there if that wasn't the plan, Rory. You have to believe me."

I stood there, stunned. Apart of me was relieved that Gale hadn't knowingly killed her, and another part of me didn't care. She was still dead, and it was still Gale's design, still his order that killed her. Her blood was still on his hands.

I ran my hand through my hair, tugging at the ends. I shook my head. "No," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "You're still the one who gave the okay. You're the one who should have known they were there, that enough damage had already been done. You're the one who killed her, who murdered her. Willingly or not, you alone killed Prim. Vick and mom and Posy and the whole world might be able to forgive you, might be able to call you Panem's super hero, but I can't." Without looking up to see his reaction, I set the gun down as calmly as I could, and walked out of the vault before Gale could say anything.

I didn't see him in District 13 again.

..

A/N: Hey there! So I know it says this story was published over two years ago, but I've reread it and fixed any major plot holes in the first chapter (bless my juvenile writing skills) and decided that maybe this could turn into a story? Not a long one, of course, but Rory deserves an ending. Thanks for reading :)

xx sarah


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